Moments In Time
by brownpaperbags
Summary: A series of small stories and moments in Camelot. All characters will be represented, but mostly Arthur and Merlin. Stories will include: drinking games, lost bets, awkward chats and moments, arguments, Merlin's kiss, a baby, a fishing pole...and so much more! Stories will range from comedic to angst and anywhere in between. Hope you enjoy! Please REVIEW!
1. Flowers For Your Grave

Author's Note: This is just a little thing I am going to be working on in my down time...which I do not have much of. I am unfortunately going to be taking a little break from my other stories for the time being. I am too busy to keep up with them, but they are not forgotten or abandoned. I am going to be making a compilation of one chapter stories from various times in the life of Merlin. They will encompass all characters to some degree, but will mostly focus on Arthur, Merlin and their unique relationship. I love feedback so please REVIEW! Anyways, here is the first story. I hope you enjoy!

*Set sometime in Season 2

Something was bothering Arthur Pendragon. And, for once, it wasn't Merlin.

Merlin supposed he should take some comfort in not being the cause of Arthur's temper tantrum. After all, it was a very rare thing indeed for the prince to not find some way to blame whatever had angered him on his servant. Normally, Merlin would have taken the reprieve with a silent prayer of gratitude to the gods, but there was something different about Arthur's mood this time. A certain severity that Merlin could not ignore. There was tension in his master's shoulders, a haunted bitterness that Merlin could not escape.

Arthur had been in his foul mood for the better part of a week. He'd hardly spoken to Merlin and when he had it had almost always been to chastise him in some way. It felt to Merlin that nothing he did was good enough for the prince. Of course, if Merlin were honest with himself that was how it normally was, but while Arthur often teased his servant about his general inefficiency, Merlin knew that, beneath it all, Arthur really was only teasing. After all, they had an image to maintain. A degree of haphazard and reluctant fondness for another that the other servants and denizens of the castle had come to rely upon.

This week, however, the taunts had been mean spirited. Arthur had purposely spoken to him with harsh words meant to hurt and, even worse, acted as if Merlin didn't exist unless he had done something wrong. As soon as Merlin made a mistake, Arthur tore into him as if he were a hound and Merlin was a bone. It hadn't mattered who heard, hadn't mattered who was watching. By the time the week had come to an end, the boys weren't speaking to one another.

It had taken everything Merlin had to pull himself from bed and march up to Arthur's chambers on Saturday morning. He had probably stared at the door for five minutes before he could work up enough goodwill towards the prince to go inside only to discover that Arthur had shut him out. The doors to Arthur's room were locked. Merlin could do nothing but stare in amazement. The doors had never been locked. Even when Arthur despised Merlin the prince had allowed him to enter, however reluctant his admittance might have been.

Merlin tried the door once more, as if his persistence could break locks, but was met with the same obstinance as before. Hurt swept through him despite his anger over Arthur's childish tantrum. He had done nothing to deserve treatment like this. Arthur could be unfair, could be rude and was certainly a prat, but he had never been cruel. Not like this.

Merlin kicked the door hard. He wasn't entirely sure what he was hoping for, but surely his insolence would incite anger in his master. Anger enough to open the door and confront him, berate him. They would argue, but at least Arthur would be there. At least the door would be opened. All his actions did, however, was incite his foot to throb. There was no answer from behind the prince's door. Not even a hint that the prince was there...even though Merlin knew that he was. He could sense Arthur's presence like a tangible thing, like the vibration of taut strings after being plucked.

Merlin had waited for a few moments for something to happen, for Arthur to show his face, but he never did. There was nothing else for Merlin to do, but go about his day and wait for the prince to come out of hiding. After all, Arthur had duties to attend to. Surely, the young man wouldn't abandon the very things he held sacred. He had knights to train, matters of court to attend to. Merlin would just do the tasks assigned to him and confront his friend when he poked his head out of his hole.

Only...Arthur never did poke his head out. He remained in his chambers for the rest of the day. Even when Merlin brought him lunch and dinner the door never opened. Merlin had no other option but to return home and see if tomorrow brought about any change. He wasn't happy about it and for the rest of the night Merlin was so surly that Gaius sent him to bed out of exasperation. Merlin fell asleep thinking of all the ways he'd like to pummel Arthur Pendragon. Turning the crown prince of Camelot into something slimy might get him killed, but damn it was tempting.

Merlin was dreaming about a frog shaped Arthur when something hit him hard in the head. He awoke violently, hands rising to cover his head, with visions of Arthur croaking still dancing behind his eyes. A cold hand wrapped around his mouth and Merlin, without any real thought about who might be waking him up in the middle of the night, bit down hard. The owner of the mauled hand swore loudly and thumped him on the side of the head. Merlin immediately let go. Not because the blow to his head had hurt him, but because the cursing voice was alarmingly familiar.

"I can't believe you bit me," Arthur whispered harshly from across the room, holding his bitten hand and staring at Merlin as if he'd never seen him before.

"You snuck into my room," Merlin said, thinking that Arthur was lucky he hadn't been blasted with magic instead. "You deserved whatever you got."

"You bit me," Arthur said again.

"Repeating a thing doesn't undo it," Merlin grunted, rubbing the top of his head. "What did you hit me with?"

"I could get rabies," Arthur said, ignoring his servant.

"It's the middle of the night," Merlin sighed, not in the mood to take part in whatever game the prince was playing.

"You're my servant, Merlin. I can call on you anytime it pleases me."

"Arthur," Merlin began, still rubbing his head.

"We're leaving," Arthur said abruptly. "Get dressed."

"Leaving?" Merlin repeated, staring up Arthur in surprise. "Where?"

"Does it matter?" Arthur replied harshly. "We're leaving, Merlin. Now do as I say."

"But-"

"But what?" Arthur asked sharply.

"It's the middle of the night," Merlin snapped back.

"I'm well aware of that, Merlin. So, now that we've both agreed on the time of day, I would remind you of the task at hand. Or can your tiny brain handle something as arduous as putting on a shirt?"

Merlin glared at Arthur. Honestly, it was moments like this that Merlin wanted nothing more than to teach the prince some humility. It would be so easy. A whispered word, a flash of gold and Arthur would never see him as a lowly servant ever again. Arthur thought he knew power, knew strength, but he had no idea. And Merlin could teach him.

Merlin opened his mouth to snap back in anger, but something in Arthur's expression stopped him. Despite the prince's harsh words there was a vulnerability in his eyes that Merlin wasn't used to. Merlin closed his mouth, shook his head once, and threw the covers over the side of the bed. Arthur didn't say a word as Merlin dressed, choosing instead to look out the window of Merlin's room at the moonlit streets of Camelot. Merlin put on his shoes, secured his neckerchief, and turned to face his friend.

"Ready," he said quietly. "You going to tell me what this is all about?"

"No," Arthur replied. "Follow me."

"Why do I even ask?" Merlin muttered under his breath, reluctantly following Arthur out the door of Gaius' home.

Merlin blearily followed Arthur through the darkened castle, fighting to keep his eyes open long enough to reach whatever destination Arthur had in mind. They twisted and weaved until Merlin smelled the tantalizingly warm and crisp scent of baking bread. The kitchens. Arthur had led them into the hallowed halls of the castle cook, but for what purpose Merlin could not discern. Merlin's stomach growled and he looked down at it as if it had betrayed him. It was too early to be hungry. Too early for anything but sleep, yet here he was...awake and hungry.

"Wait here," Arthur told him quietly. Merlin looked up in time to see the prince's back disappear through the kitchen doors.

Merlin heard muffled voices for a moment and then Arthur was back, carrying two loaves of fresh bread, a wheel of cheese, two apples and two flasks of what smelled suspiciously like the cook's famous apple cider. Merlin's mouth watered. The apple cider was a special treat that was usually reserved for festivals and feasts. Even Arthur was rarely served the delicious brew and he must have flirted shamelessly to con such a prize from the cook.

"Breakfast," Arthur said. He handed Merlin an apple, one loaf of bread and one of the coveted flasks. Breaking the cheese in half he took a portion for himself and handed the other to his servant.

"Arthur," Merlin sighed, looking at the food in his hands with longing. "What is going on? You've been acting strangely all week."

"Strangely?" Arthur questioned, tearing off a piece of bread with his teeth and chewing.

"Mean," Merlin amended. "You've been mean."

"I have not," Arthur scoffed.

"Prattyer than ever, sire."

"Merlin, I have not been mean. You're just overly sensitive. Not that uncommon for a girl."

"Arthur-"

"Eat your breakfast," Arthur finally snapped. "You won't have time later."

"What's happening later?"

"You really have no idea how to shut up, do you?"

"I have a right to know what's going on, Arthur."

"No, you don't, Merlin. You're a servant, remember?"

"And you're a prat," Merlin said icily. "We all have our crosses to bear."

Arthur rolled his eyes and refused to say anything more until Merlin had eaten all of his breakfast. Then, with a ridiculous snap of his fingers that made Merlin want to shove Arthur in a dark hole, he ordered Merlin to ready their horses. Merlin continued to needle and prod at where they were going, but still Arthur refused to answer. Even as they made their way out of the city and into the wilderness beyond Arthur remained stoic and aloof.

They had been riding for almost an hour, in a direction Merlin was unfamiliar with, when Arthur suddenly raised his hand and told Merlin to stop. He wasn't entirely sure what they were stopping for. It hadn't been long enough for them to need a break and there was nothing that Merlin could see that was worth halting for. Then, as if from the depths of the earth itself, Merlin could sense a dim form of energy rising up around him. It thrummed against his skin, comforting yet alien. His magic tentatively reached out and mingled with the energy. It was familiar in some way, but for the life of him he could not figure out why.

Merlin watched Arthur slide from his horse and he did the same. As soon as his feet touched the ground the humming stopped, the energy retreated and Merlin felt strangely alone. Abandoned by whatever power had been there. Arthur strode forward and through a grove of trees into what looked like a clearing shrouded by the trees branches. Merlin followed him, but was stopped by the beauty of what lay on the other side.

It was a clearing, but not like any clearing Merlin had ever seen before. The grass was tall and dark, so green that against the contrast of the morning sky above it almost looked black. Bright flowers covered the landscape, dotting the ground with vibrant splotches of red, yellow, pink and orange. The clearing itself was a perfect circle, surrounded by willows, their long branches trailing the ground like elegant fingers. In the middle of the clearing was a large grey stone, surrounded by flowers and what looked like tiny fairy rings. The energy Merlin had felt earlier buzzed around him, fainter than before but strong enough that it made him a little dizzy.

"What is this place?" Merlin asked, coming forward to stand at Arthur's side.

"I used to come here all the time," Arthur said softly. "And then I stopped. I don't know why."

Merlin said nothing. He had the distinct feeling that he wasn't meant to respond just yet.

"I never met her," Arthur continued. "And yet...I feel like I have. Like I should remember her more than I do." Arthur turned to look at Merlin questioningly. "Is that strange? To yearn for someone you've never met?"

Understanding slammed into Merlin like a physical blow. Ygraine. Arthur had brought them to his mother's grave. It explained the familiarity of the energy in the clearing. So like her son's. So like Arthur's.

"Arthur," Merlin began.

"I get so jealous of you sometimes, Merlin."

"Jealous?" Merlin asked, shocked. "Of me?"

"Hunith," Arthur answered. "Your mother. She adores you. Loves you. I can't help but wonder what that feels like."

"Your father," Merlin started.

"My father died the day my mother did," Arthur interrupted. "He may be here physically, but his spirit is gone. All that's left is anger. And hate." There was no bitterness to his words. Just acceptance. Arthur had felt that way for a very long time.

"Your father loves you," Merlin argued.

"Perhaps," Arthur murmured.

"Arthur," Merlin said quietly. "What is this all about? Why did you bring us here?"

"I feel like I've failed her, Merlin."

"Failed her? How could you have possibly failed her?"

"I stopped thinking about her," Arthur said harshly. "I stopped dreaming about her."

"That doesn't mean you failed her," Merlin told him gently, unsure of what to do.

"What do you know about it, Merlin?" Arthur snapped.

"I know what it feels like to miss a parent," Merlin told him quietly. "I know what it's like to feel incomplete."

"Your father?" Arthur asked, raising his head to look at Merlin in a new light.

"Gone before I was born," Merlin replied.

"How did he die?" Arthur questioned. "In the Purge? Did he die fighting against magic?"

"No," Merlin said, attempting to keep his voice steady. "He just left."

"Left?"

"Yes, sire. Left. As in, one morning he was there and the next he wasn't."

"I never knew," Arthur said softly.

"You never asked."

Arthur was silent for a long moment, his face unreadable. Merlin wasn't sure what was happening between them, but he felt sure that it was something that would change their relationship forever. There was a reason that Arthur brought Merlin with him when it would have been so much easier for him to go alone.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Arthur finally whispered.

"You didn't leave. My father did," Merlin said, waving his apology off.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," Merlin said softly. And he did know. Arthur wasn't good at displays of emotion on any scale other than anger. His 'sorry' was more of a general 'sorry for being a prat', but without the emotional commitment that came with a normal apology.

Arthur nodded and looked back at Ygraine's grave. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Forget that he's gone," Arthur said. "Your father. It's like you don't even care."

"I care," Merlin shrugged. "I just...I guess it's different, Arthur. My father chose to leave. Your mother didn't. I can't help feeling angry at him. I suppose that helps."

"You?" Arthur scoffed. "Angry?"

"I can get angry," Merlin said, smiling slightly.

"Right," Arthur snorted. "Name one time you let your temper get the best of you."

"I believe you have a bite mark on your hand that proves I can lose my temper," Merlin said haughtily.

"That was hardly a temper," Arthur laughed, rolling his eyes. "That was surprise."

"Fair enough," Merlin conceded, grinning raucously.

"Merlin," Arthur said, suddenly somber again. "I'm going to sit with her awhile, I think. And I'd like to be alone when I do it."

"Sure," Merlin said, clapping Arthur on the shoulder. "Take your time, sire. I'll wait for the horses."

Arthur nodded then stopped Merlin with a firm hand. "Merlin," he said seriously. "I'm warning you. If I you ever tell a soul about what went on here today I swear I'll-"

"Cut in me into pieces?" Merlin sighed, pulling away. "Rip the meat from my bones? Dip me in a boiling vat of oil?"

"Nothing quite so dramatic," Arthur sniffed. "But, you're heading in the right direction."

"Don't worry," Merlin said, rolling his eyes. "Your secret is safe with me."

Merlin turned away, heading towards the sound of neighing horses.

"Merlin?" Arthur called suddenly.

Merlin turned to face his master with a sigh, already preparing himself for whatever nastiness would come pouring from Arthur's mouth.

"Thank you," Arthur said softly.

Merlin blinked once in surprise then managed to get a hold of himself before nodding once in acknowledgement. As he turned away once more, leaving the prince to his graveside vigil, Merlin was struck by a feeling of hope and empowerment. He had never felt so strongly connected to his destiny before. It had always seemed like an unattainable thing, but now...now it felt closer than ever before. Perhaps it was the energy of the clearing, Ygraine's energy, but for the first time in a long time Merlin felt certain that Arthur truly was the Once and Future King. And Merlin...Merlin was one step closer to the moment he could finally be free.


	2. Two Men and A Baby

Author's Note: I am so happy people like this story so far. Here is the next story in the set and I am going for something a little more comedic this time. I would greatly appreciate some feedback. Reviews give me inspiration to write...which I have not had much time for lately. I would love to find more motivation to do it and your feedback would encourage me greatly. If you like the story that is... :)

*Set sometime in the first season.

Arthur stared at 'the thing' in front of him, his brow furrowed in annoyance, lips set in a petulant grimace. He was certain that Morgana was terribly amused with herself, but he didn't think he had ever found anything less funny in his entire life. What the hell was he supposed to do with it? And why was it just sitting there? Staring at him with bright, inquisitive eyes. Drooling...

"Your disgusting," he told it, curling his upper lip as a large droplet of spit splattered upon his bed cover.

'The thing' responded with a tooth-speckled grin and Arthur grimaced as more drool slid down the corner of it's mouth. The prince toyed with the idea of bolting out the door and leaving the creature to fend for itself, but it would be just his luck for something unfortunate to happen to it while he was gone and then where would he be? Wars had been started over far less and the last thing Camelot needed was the scandal that would result from 'it' getting injured while under his care. Besides, the triumphant look on Morgana's face if he should fail would kill him. There was no way he was going to see her gloating smirk over something as simple as...it.

'The thing' moved suddenly, jerking towards Arthur on unsteady legs, and the prince jumped back as if he were in danger of being stung by something smelly. Or deadly. Or both. Perhaps he was. Arthur's experience with this sort of situation was extremely limited. In fact, he'd only watched the ladies of the court coo over their own from afar. When they had approached him with offers to hold 'it' or kiss 'it' or give 'it' his blessing he had always magically found himself with his arms full. He didn't want one anywhere near him. They smelled funny. And they were always sticky...for no damn reason at all.

Arthur eyed 'the thing' as it waddled towards him, unsure of what his next move should be. He frantically looked for an escape route. He could not explain why, but this creature filled him with more trepidation and horror than any monster, sorcerer or man he'd ever faced. Damn Morgana for doing this to him. And damn his pride. Why did it matter what she thought anyways? Just because she'd mocked his ability to handle 'it' and 'it's' needs didn't mean that he had to step up to the challenge. Why couldn't he just let things be? Why did he always have to take such great offense to the slightest questioning of his capabilities? And where the hell was Merlin? The servant should have come to his rescue by now.

Arthur had sent word down to Gaius' chambers that he was in the middle of a life or death crisis over an hour ago. Of course, he'd neglected to mention what his life or death emergency entailed, but it shouldn't have mattered. Merlin was his servant! Even if Arthur had sent down word that he couldn't find his shoes Merlin should have reacted as if it were the end of the world.

'The thing' suddenly stumbled and Arthur's heart stopped as it collapsed to its hands and knees on the cobble stone floor. 'It's' face looked shocked for a moment, the little mouth opened wide, little teeth glimmering. Then it's eyes crumpled up and it began to scream. Arthur clapped his hands over his ears, heart hammering against his ribs. Fat tears dripped down the creature's face and it reached up to Arthur with little fists opening and closing, screaming and screaming. Endlessly. Shrilly.

Arthur stepped forward slightly, leaning his face away just in case the thing decided to do something other than scream. 'It' kept reaching up to him and for the briefest of moments Arthur's heart softened. Perhaps 'it' was hurt. Perhaps 'it' really needed his help and wasn't just feigning injury to lure Arthur closer. After all, it wasn't like 'things' like this were notoriously dangerous. Women handled them all the time. They even looked like they enjoyed it sometimes. Surely, Arthur could handle something like this. He could be soothing. He could be comforting. He could be...oh, who was he kidding? He'd seen the looks Merlin had given him when he had attempted to the servant up on his darker days. If he couldn't cheer up Merlin, who was a complete idiot and had the personality of an obnoxiously happy puppy, how could ever hope to brighten the spirits of something as complicated as 'it'? He needed Merlin. Except, as usual, Merlin wasn't there when he needed him.

"There, there," he said to the thing, patting it's head akwardly. "Don't cry. It's okay."

The 'thing' shrieked louder and Arthur growled in frustration. The screams were grating at his nerves and Arthur decided that he would take revenge on Morgana as soon as he got rid of 'it'. No, not just Morgana. Merlin to. And the conniving dignitary that had brought 'it' to Camelot. It was all a plot against him...to prove how inadequate he was as a ruler. To show the world how weak he really was. He would not allow this visiting king and his wife to ruin his good name. He would be damned if something like 'it' would break him.

Arthur picked up the shrieking thing from the floor and held it out in front of him as if 'it' were foaming at the mouth. It stared at him, still shrieking, tears dripping down it's cheeks and onto the floor. Of course, it was at that moment, when Arthur was close to screaming himself that his useless servant decided to make his entrance. Arthur turned toward the sound of the door opening, the creature struggling in his grasp and screeching, and watched as Merlin took in the scene playing out in front of him. The servant's eyes widened and he pursed his lips in the annoying fashion that he had.

"Arthur," Merlin said, quieter and calmer than the situation should have warranted. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Arthur cried, shoving 'it' towards Merlin in desperation. "Get it to stop!"

Merlin sidestepped him smoothly and looked at Arthur as if he'd lost his mind. "YOU get him to stop!"

"Merlin," Arthur shouted. "Take it!" The 'thing' shrieked louder at Arthur's raised voice and the prince felt sure he could feel his brain boiling between his ears.

"Nice going, sire. You're a natural at this. You really are."

"Merlin," Arthur growled, trying to fix Merlin with his best 'do it or else' glare. "You are my servant and I demand that you take it."

"How am I supposed to know what to do with him?" Merlin crowed, throwing his hands up.

"You've had experience with these sorts of things," Arthur told him, wincing as 'it' screeched loudly.

"What experience?" Merlin demanded.

"You've delivered cows," Arthur pointed out desperately. "And other animals. You told me. How you took care of the animals back in Ealdor! Surely, this is no different..."

Arthur trailed off as Merlin blinked at him as if he wasn't entirely sure he'd heard the prince correctly. The servant then shook his head with barely concealed disdain. Arthur flushed red and cursed Merlin for being the only person in the history of his life that could make him feel stupid.

"I hardly think they are the same," Merlin said pointedly. "But, you go on ahead and point out their supposed similarities to Queen Alesia and see what she makes of you comparing her only son to a cow."

"Merlin," Arthur pleaded. "I will never ask you to do anything ever again." Merlin snorted at his words and Arthur gritted his teeth to keep from dropping 'it' and knocking out Merlin's teeth for his insolence. He managed to get himself under control and grated out, "Please. Just...help me."

"Alright," Merlin said, grinning like a loon. Arthur went to hand 'it' to Merlin, but the servant sidestepped him again.

"Merlin," Arthur barked. "You said..."

"I said I would help you," Merlin agreed. "But, did you honestly think something like this was going to happen for free?"

"Merlin," Arthur warned, his hands shaking from holding the creature out in front of him for so long. "You are pushing it. I would remind you that I can put you in the stocks for refusing to follow a command."

"You could," Merlin said amiably. "But, then you would still be stuck with Prince Caleb there. And it doesn't look like he's prepared to stop screaming anytime soon." Merlin frowned and looked at Arthur accusingly. "What did you do to him anyways?"

"I didn't do anything," Arthur cried. "It just-"

"He," Merlin corrected with a raucous grin.

"He," Arthur amended through grit teeth. "He waddled and-"

"He waddled?"

"Yes, you idiot. He waddled. It's like walking, but-" Arthur frowned. How did one describe waddling anyways?

"But?"

"You can't seriously be this idiotic," Arthur hissed, narrowly dodging an angry strike from the infantile monster in his arms.

Merlin shrugged then stood, arms crossed, with a serene smile on his face.

"Waddling," Arthur nearly shouted. "Like this..." He bent his knees and walked awkwardly from side to side, attempting to emulate the strange movements he'd seen from the little prince earlier. Merlin's smile grew larger and Arthur instantly realized his mistake.

"That was a sight I shall treasure forever, sire."

"You bloody idiotic, foul, evil little-you knew what I was trying to say all along!"

"I'll admit that waddling was a concept I understood quite well," Merlin said, grinning. "But you explained it so well, Arthur. Really...you should consider teaching."

Arthur was about to open his mouth to let loose a flurry of insults and curses, but right as he did so the baby in his arms made a desperate grab for him. Somehow Arthur missed the movement and by the time he realized what was happening it was too late. One tiny fist clutched the corner of his tunic and the other was curled tightly around a clump of his hair. It pulled, hard, and Arthur was forced to bring the thing closer to him lest it tear his hair out.

The baby continued to carry on with his fit, but now his cries were coming in little hiccups and gasps. His snot was getting all over Arthur's tunic and the prince had to turn away because he felt sure he was going to be sick. They were so disgusting! Snot and spit and...Arthur turned green. He didn't want to think about what else came out of the foul creature in his arms.

"Merlin," Arthur said, turning to see his servant still grinning at him. "Get this thing off of me!"

"No can do," Merlin sighed.

"I'll do anything," Arthur said desperately, knowing he was making a huge mistake, but not feeling like he had any other option.

"Anything?" Merlin asked innocently, as if this hadn't been his plan all along.

"Anything," Arthur repeated instantly.

"Well," Merlin said slowly, pretending to think it over.

The baby chose that moment to sneeze and Arthur nearly crawled out of his skin. It took everything he had not to throw the thing at Merlin and pray to the gods that his clumsy servant had enough sense to catch it.

"Anything," Arthur all but cried. "Just get this thing off me!"

"I want a day off," Merlin said triumphantly. "No...make that two days."

"Done," Arthur said immediately.

"That means no chores, no ordering me around, no knight practice," Merlin continued. "And I get to sleep in for as long as I want."

"Fine," Arthur growled impatiently, holding out the baby to his servant.

"Not so fast," Merlin said. "I know you are going to make me pay for this later so I really need to get something out of it."

Arthur could feel the heat in his belly beginning to spread. He was going to remind Merlin of this moment for the rest of his life. He would destroy him for this.

"What?" Arthur grated out.

"You get to serve me breakfast," Merlin said with a small grin. "In bed."

"Absolutely not! You are out of your mind if you think I would ever bring you-"

"Arthur," Merlin sighed. "I think you are forgetting the way this works. You want something from me and I'm more than happy to help, but...wasn't it you that told me that nothing comes for free?"

"I'm going to kill you," Arthur growled.

"That may be," Merlin agreed. "But at least I'll die with the satisfaction of beating you at your own game. Now...those are my conditions. Take them or leave them."

"Fine," Arthur hissed, wincing as the baby pulled his hair again.

"Promise," Merlin insisted. "Swear it...on your honor."

Arthur cursed. If he swore on his honor then he would HAVE to do what he promised Merlin. His damn pride was getting in his way again. Then the baby coughed and spit ran down his neck and any concerns of his pride flew out the window.

"Alright," Arthur cried, shoving the baby towards Merlin. "I swear on my honor, Merlin. Two days off and I'll serve you breakfast!"

"In bed," Merlin said firmly, refusing to take the baby from him.

"In bed," Arthur agreed instantly.

Merlin grinned and accepted the infant graciously, pulling the child towards him without an ounce of hesitation. The tiny child lay his head on Merlin's shoulder and the servant rubbed his back in soothing circles while whispering calming phrases in the child's ear. Within moments the baby had settled down and Arthur was struck by the sudden silence.

"How did you do that?" Arthur asked quietly, staring at Merlin with something bordering awe. "You just...and he just..."

"I suppose I just have the magic touch," Merlin said, grinning more than Arthur thought the joke warranted. Something about what Merlin said had amused him greatly, but Arthur never knew with Merlin. His servant didn't think like other people thought. He was strange that way.

"Your shirt is in it's mouth," Arthur pointed out, cringing as the little monster stuffed a clump of Merlin's tunic between his lips.

"Arthur," Merlin said, rolling his eyes. "You've got to stop calling him 'it'. He's a baby. Not an inanimate object."

"I don't understand," Arthur whispered, ignoring his servant's chastisement. "Doesn't that bother you? The screaming? The spit?"

"Not really," Merlin said, smiling. "After all, I'm your servant. He's easy compared to you."

"Watch it, Merlin."

"How did you get stuck with him anyways? I thought Morgana agreed to take him while Queen Alesia and King Frederick went hunting with your father."

"She implied that I couldn't take care of him," Arthur grunted. "I told her she was wrong. So we made a little bet."

"Which you lost," Merlin pointed out.

"I did not lose, Merlin. I never lose."

"You lost," Merlin said, matter of factly.

"I did not! The rules clearly stated that I just had to keep him for the day. That I had to take care of him. You, as my servant, count as an appendage of myself. Therefore...I took care of him and therefore...I didn't lose."

Suddenly, Merlin's nose crinkled up and the baby gurgled happily. Arthur was instantly suspicious.

"Arthur," Merlin said, disgust entering his features for the first time. "I think he..." The servant trailed off uncomfortably.

"What?" Arthur asked uncertainly.

"You know..."

"No, Merlin. I do not know."

"I think he took care of business," Merlin whispered, as if afraid the baby would hear.

"Business?" Arthur asked, confused. "What business?"

"Pooped," Merlin said softly, flushing.

"Oh," Arthur said, stepping back from the baby again. "Well...take care of it."

"Me?" Merlin croaked. "But..."

"But what?" Arthur smirked. "We had a deal...remember?"

"Oh gods," Merlin breathed, staring down at the baby's cloth covered rump with terror. "I think it moved, Arthur."

"Have fun, Merlin," Arthur said gleefully, reaching towards the doors to his chambers.

"Wait," Merlin cried. "Where are you going? You can't just leave me here!"

"Sure I can," Arthur grinned. "You want those days off, don't you? And breakfast...in bed?"

"It's not worth this," Merlin said frantically. "I take it back!"

"Merlin," Arthur chastised. "I swore on my honor. I can't go back on my promise. And neither can you. The deal is done."

Arthur swung through the open door as Merlin raised his voice in protest. Arthur laughed and walked jauntily down the hall. Damn, it felt good to win. And who said revenge wasn't sweet? Or, Arthur supposed, in Merlin's case...stinky.


End file.
